Watching
by CheetahLiv
Summary: She watches from far away...Hoshi and Malcolm. Spoilers for up to season one's Fusion. Rated for mentions of eating disorder. Please read and review! Oneshot, complete.


AN: Hello once more! This is my first foray into Enterprise fiction, and I do hope I'm not too far off the mark. I'm just watching the series for the first time, and am almost through with the first season, so if you choose to comment, please don't leave any spoilers! :)

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

Hoshi watches him from far away, as though he were an alien life form and she were not even there. Sometimes she thinks he's not all there himself, though he would never be derelict in his duty. He loves this ship too much to let any personal problems get in the way of _Enterprise_ running efficiently. She wonders if he loves anyone the way he loves this ship.

She knows he's not close to his family—her brief chat with them made that abundantly clear. Maybe it was because he comes from a long line of military men. She can imagine a young Malcolm being told to keep his chin up, to never let anyone see him as weak. And her heart breaks for the little boy who was never allowed to be a little boy at all.

And so she watches—watches as the man goes about his job, putting his life on the line for all their sakes time after time after time. She watches as he skips meals, too busy in the armory or assisting Commander Tucker in engineering. The tiny voice in the back of her mind (in the doctor's native language Denobulan, a subtle reminder that this may be more serious than simply forgetting to eat dinner here or there) recalls the difficulty she had in tracking down his favorite foods for his birthday party. At the time she'd written it off as simply another facet of this man—perhaps he was just too private for his own good. But the voice doesn't let up, and she is unable to shake the feeling of how odd it was that not even his parents knew what Malcolm liked to eat.

But it's not until she runs into him as he's stepping out of the shower that she thinks there might be a problem. The co-ed lavatories are usually unoccupied in the middle of the ship's night, but she'd been unable to sleep and had come to wash her face, hoping the ritual might ease her into restfulness. The mirrors had been steamed up, and as the door closed behind her, the tap squeaked off and out stepped Malcolm Reed, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist.

Hoshi tried her best to keep her cheeks from coloring and averted her eyes, staring into the fogged-up mirror to avoid staring at her superior's nearly-naked body. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think anyone would be in here."

Even in the obscured glass she can tell he doesn't look right. His hip bones jut out from above the towel's edge, and she can clearly see prominent ribs. His chest is almost skeletal, clavicle and shoulders visible under the taut skin. She closes her eyes as a feeling of dread washes over her. Her instincts had been right all along, but she had been deaf to their warning cries.

Malcolm stutters out a response, caught off-guard, and Hoshi leaves the lavatory without a backwards glance. On the way back to her quarters, she tosses ideas around, muttering under her breath in Russian. Talking to herself has always helped her problem-solve, and she hopes the foreign language will deter eavesdroppers. Part of her wants desperately to ignore the whole situation as though it had never happened. She's not big on conflict, and especially not on bringing up such sensitive topics as eating disorders with someone with whom she's served but who is essentially no more than an acquaintance. She wonders about speaking to Commander Tucker or maybe even Captain Archer—surely they are closer to Malcolm and would have an easier time speaking to him. She even considers Dr. Phlox, but in the end decides that he would see that as an invasion of his privacy, even more than what she's already witnessed. No, it has to be her; she knows she has to help him.

It's not easy; the tension between them is palpable during their next shared bridge duty, and even Archer can tell something's up. Thankfully he has the good sense to keep quiet.

But that night, when she's sure he's retired for the evening, Hoshi shows up at Malcolm Reed's door with a plateful of sliced pineapple and an invitation to talk.

He accepts.


End file.
